Fly
by Whispering Darkness
Summary: Harry fled his past, flew away from the shadows that still haunted him. Steve had his own futuristic foes to battle. And even Fury wasn't sure how to go about debriefing a supposed mythical creature. Rated for Fury's coarse language.
1. Chapter 1

**Part One**

* * *

Harry had always been a survivor. As a child growing up with his relatives he had learned to keep it all in; the hurt, the feelings of being worthless. And the aching pain of being alone.

He had never lost hope, though.

He had always dreamed of the day someone would come to his cupboard and take him away. But that dream had died with Sirius.

Even after that, he had held out hope. Not in the dream of a family who cared for him, but in the belief that he wasn't alone. A hope borne from his faith in his friends and that they were all the family he needed.

But the war was terrible and every bond was tested. The loyalty between classmates, family and friends became strained when everything went to hell.

The Ministry refused to believe in Voldemort's resurrection and fell easily to the Death Eaters. Without Dumbledore, Hogwarts fell as well. And he, Ron and Hermione ran. As the world tried to tear them apart, they held on so tightly to each other that it almost hurt.

And Ron left, and that nearly broke them, but he came back and they were a world of three again and they couldn't afford feeling hurt or betrayed or sorry because they were the Golden Trio and together they hunted down the pieces of Voldemort's soul, even as they were hunted themselves.

At seventeen they knew war. All three of them knew it so intimately that it also felt like it had become a part of them. And Harry, who had always been dancing around with Death came to know him too. He had stood before Voldemort willing to die. _Wanting_ to die, because he now knew that that had always been the endgame, from the very moment he was a newly orphaned baby marked by his parent's murderer.

Instead he lived. A survivor once more, but not really because he had died and he _knew_ Death and he knew that throwing away the Resurrection Stone and the Elder Wand couldn't change that, but he did so anyway, trying to purge the scent of Death from his soul.

And the war was over.

People started picking up the pieces, a new Minister rose with Voldemort's fall. The damage was repaired and the dead buried.

Except for him.

Friends and family drew back together as if their previous distrust was nothing more than a bad dream and even Ron and Hermione managed to shake off the pain, the blood and the fear and slowly retook their place in the sunlight.

But even as Hermione encouraged him to come back to Hogwarts with her and take his N.E.W.T.S or Ron asked him to join the Aurors with him, Harry couldn't shake off the shadows. They followed him, clinging to his skin and he couldn't wash them off.

Even standing in the bright sunlight, being awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, and hailed as a hero, the darkness of the war still seemed to cover him completely. Their words of honour and heroics couldn't silence the screams of those he had witnessed tortured or dying. The expensive clothes couldn't hide the shaking of his limbs from feeling exposed on the stage, too easy a target.

For everyone else the war slowly faded. It became a memory of a few harsh years in their lives. The losses remained, but the horror and sharp sting of grief was soothed by family or lovers as they rebuilt their lives.

For Harry the war with Voldemort _was_ his life. It had always been a part of him: it was the reason he grew up unloved and it haunted his steps every part of the way when he entered the Wizarding World. It had been his life and his death. Beyond that, what else was there?

It was too much.

The memories, the feelings, the nightmares.

He had always been good at keeping his feelings in, but it was just _too much_. Now that the war was over and their Golden Trio was once again a group of friends instead of a world of three fused together he had to bear these things alone but he _couldn't_.

The memories wouldn't let him be and his feelings were tearing him apart. He was stuck in the war and in death and it was driving him mad.

It was a remembrance of Sirius that saved him.

His godfather had spent twelve years in his own hell and had managed to survive.

So with Hermione's help he learned. Obsessively he studied the animagus transformation. And though Hermione cautioned him, he didn't give much thought to going slowly so that he could get used to the animal's instincts. It took him no more than three months to fully change into his animal form for the first time.

Harry Potter became a Griffin.

Hermione and Ron where the only two witness to his transformation, and a month later, they were the only ones he told that he was leaving the Wizarding World, and Britain, for a while.

He still felt hunted. And the attention everyone paid him when he went _anywhere_ didn't help. So he left the adoring fans and persistent reporters behind and took a plane to America.

But his pursuers didn't let up. Instead of Death Eaters or Snatchers, there were only shadows following him and they had no trouble keeping up with him.

His animagus form helped a lot. He had read, of course, that one should slowly become accustomed to their animal. It was advisable to start with occasional short transformations. Over time, as the witch or wizard gained more control over their animal instincts they could slowly adapt to spending a longer time in their animagus form.

But Harry was never one to care overly much for the rules.

As a Griffin his memories didn't feel so painfully overwhelming. He could still remember everything, but in his animal form it was so much easier to set everything that made him Harry Potter aside and instead focus on the here and now.

The thrill of flying, the joy of running, the calm of sleeping beneath the stars; he hadn't ever felt this free. Yes, the war still haunted him at times, but not _all the_ _time_. He could go hours without remembered horrors, he had nights without a single nightmare.

And after all this time it was such a _relief_.

So Harry actually spent most of his time as a Griffin. Especially when he went to sleep. The extra barrier the mind of a Griffin put between him and his nightmares didn't always work, but it was more than he had before so he could make do.

Harry Potter was, after all, a survivor.

He would survive.

* * *

"Um. Sir?"

Fury turned, greeting the hesitant support staff with a silent, no-nonsense stare.

"I, uh, found this."

With a sigh the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. took the folder from the twitchy man's limp hands. He mentally asked himself why he couldn't just run his entire Headquarters with agents but had to put up with tech-support, surveillance and scientists as well.

His eye scanned the information and photographs quickly and he raised an eyebrow. "A Griffin?" He asked the nervous man, "I ask you to keep an eye on anything unusual and you give me a mythical creature."

The man swallowed and nodded firmly "Yes, sir."

Well, at least the guy wasn't _completely_ hopeless, at least he stood by his report. "Hmm…" Plans and possibilities came to him and an idea already started to take root in his mind. But he needed more information, first. "Send a team. Observation only. Have them keep their distance but I want them near enough to interfere if this thing becomes a threat."

The man nodded and seemed eager to scamper off, back to his computer screens and the disembodied voices over their Bluetooth.

"Oh, and Mr. Davis…? Do _not_ lose sight of it." The director had already turned back to the screens in front of him, but he could practically hear the man freeze for a moment.

"Yes sir!"

Fury took one more long look at the file the man had given him. This _could_ be just what he needed. A mythical creature roaming the American countryside… It could be significant or an anomaly, but it was just intriguing enough to make one… curious.

Tapping the photograph of the large creature absentmindedly with his fingers he moved his eye back to the photo of Steve Rogers and the files on his screen that he had been studying earlier.

Captain America seemed a bit reluctant to return to fighting the good fight, having awoken to a new time and a vastly different world. The technology and new weaponry still evaded the man out of time, who seemed to have little desire to learn and adapt to his new life. The man was a soldier, yes, and a loyal one, but America was not currently at war. Not overtly, in any case. And the Captain was not exactly subtle enough for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s usual endeavours.

But the man would be a powerful ally and Fury was realistic enough to know that they would never have a shortage of powerful enemies. The debacle in New Mexico and Stark's battles with people that used similar technology to the Iron Man Suit or Arc Reactor against him had shown that clearly enough.

More enemies _would_ crop up. And when they did, they would need someone like the Captain. The man just had to be ready to step up.

And Director Fury was sure that he _would_. Captain Rogers just needed a little _nudge_ in the right direction.

Maybe this could be that nudge...?

If the man didn't want anything to do with the new technology, well, Fury was sure that a mythical creature could be used to catch the attention of the newly awakened captain.

Yes, this _could_ be a good way to get Steve Rogers back in the game again.

And it _was_ just one animal, it couldn't be that much of a problem, even for a somewhat reluctant soldier. But this creature _was_ a complete unknown that shouldn't even exist... He would have to be careful about it, just in case. After all, Norse Gods weren't supposed to exist either and look at how well _that_ went down; they had ended up depending on an alien with a big hammer for help.

Well, _that_ would never happen again. No, at the very least he would have to make a contingency plan first.

Or twelve.

* * *

**A.N. **This will probably be about three chapters long at most. But hey, not a one-shot!

Now I just have to find the image of an emerald-eyed Griffin for my cover. Hmm... I could try drawing one but I kind of suck at that... Ah well. I'll think of something, for now, Captain America will do!

I had fun writing Fury, not as much fun as Thor but I like Fury's badassery. It's one of those guilty writing pleasures, just like writing Thor's archaic speech. Ah, fun times.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

* * *

His hard-fought peace was disturbed by the sound of gunfire.

It was an odd thing to hear for a wizard, out in the middle of nowhere. Harry had kept away from any populated areas for obvious reasons and hadn't seen a human in days. Not since the last time he changed into his human form and spent a few hours in the diner of a small town (he didn't even remember the name of the town, but the food had been fine, the tea horrible and the pie had been especially good).

That had been over a week ago, though. And he had seen no sign of civilization since.

Until now.

* * *

Fury cursed as every contingency plan and possibility he had considered was blasted clear out of the window, spat on and grinded into the floor with a large steel-toed boot.

"What is the situation?" He barked to a nearby, cowering tech-guy.

"Well, sir…. it-uh seems like there was a c-complication."

"Tell me something I don't know." He practically growled.

He had no patience for the man's stammered apologies and turned to another likely victim. "Davis!" he barked to the source of his current headache; the man who brought the problem to his attention in the first place.

"Ah, yes sir." the man replied nervously, hesitatingly taking one brave step closer even as he told the director what he needed to know. "Captain America was approaching to see if the creature is hostile towards humans, and to find out if there are any more. The helicopter was just about to land in a field close-by, so that the sound did not spook the creature, but they found themselves unexpectedly under fire. They called the Captain back for help. It seems there was an illegal hidden tech-lab working on some sort of droids. The technology seems similar to that of Stark Industries; I believe they have been working to recreate some of it. While most of the scientists seemed to have fled at our presence, it is clear that they ordered their droids to take our people out."

Inwardly, Fury was slightly mollified by the clear report. The man was at least competent enough not to stammer like an idiot in the midst of a crisis. That didn't change the fact that the whole mission had gone completely down the drain. "You have been observing this creature for the past week. There was an illegal technology development lab within spitting distance from where I sent my people. And you _dare_ to tell me you. did. not. know?"

Wisely, Davis did not comment that _not knowing about it_ was, in fact, the very definition of an illegal _hidden_ tech-lab. "Yes, sir."

The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D sighed. Sometimes he really despised his job. "Send a team for back-up. I want them up in the air in two minutes. And for God's sake, be discreet about our presence there. I don't want to draw any more undue attention to this mess."

This was enough of a fucking headache as it was.

* * *

Harry barely had the time to process that a large flying object was coming straight at him but he dodged it easily. Even though his animal form was larger than he was as a human, this form was a lot more natural and manoeuvrable in the air than even his Firebolt. After all, he had his experience as a seeker as well as the instincts of a Griffin to guide him now.

Turning around in the air he blinked when he saw that the flying object was some sort of… robot? The fact that it looked rather broken from meeting the hard ground didn't change how impressive it was. The wizard hadn't had any idea that the muggle world was even _capable_ of such things.

Cautiously he flew towards where the robot, and the sounds of fighting, came from. Yes, he could just fly off instead, but he didn't. It wasn't just due to his curiosity, but also because of the simple belief that even if he _did_ leave, this would somehow come back to bite him in the ass anyway so he might as well know what was going on _now_, instead of letting it catch him off-guard later.

It was not paranoia but a proven fact. If there was trouble, it _would_ find him eventually.

With that thought in mind he carefully moved close enough to see what was happening. And he snorted softly in amazement at what he found. It looked like something from a futuristic movie: where an army of robots tries to take over the world and humans fight back.

And in the centre of the battle, as sure as Harry had always been at the centre of his own fights, was a man dressed like the American flag. Despite his odd dress sense the man was impressive; he used his shield as a boomerang, took out more robots than any other and did his best to guard the backs of every one of his soldiers.

Unfortunately he was also _severely_ outnumbered.

With the sharp eyes of his Griffin form, Harry could tell that out of the four men who seemed to be on the man's side, two sported significant injuries. The other two seemed to be trying to aid their team-mates in their retreat while the leader held off the robots. The plan was working but there was one rather large downside to it.

And that was that it left the American flag-man alone amongst a large group of robots. Sure, the injured teammates had been taken to safety but the apparent leader was now alone with his enemies.

Harry shook his head at the idiotic, suicidal plan that had undoubtedly come from the man staying behind.

That blonde was such a bloody _Gryffindor_.

A little huff left his beak. He just knew he was going to regret this.

But, as a blast of energy glanced of the man's shoulder and temporarily forced him to his knees, Harry knew there was really nothing for it.

After all, _he_ had always been a Gryffindor as well.

* * *

Steve suppressed a wince when his wounds protested at his movements, ignoring them in favour of the small army of droids that was currently trying to erase him from existence. He couldn't wrap his mind around how someone had managed to create even _one_ of these things, let alone a few dozen of them.

He let out a soft sigh of relief when he heard that at least the agents had made it out. Via his in-ear radio, someone also assured him that back-up was on the way.

Yeah, that was great. Now he just had to make sure he wasn't dead when the back-up finally arrived. He flung out his shield, striking one of the things in the neck and taking its head clean off its shoulders. The exposed wiring sparked and sizzled while the body fell down.

Steve tried to dodge all of their attacks, but there were too many and fire was coming at him from all sides. He took one hit to his right shoulder and groaned as the force of the blast downed him. A soldier, through and through, he didn't allow himself more than a second to assess the damage before he rose again, trying to break out of their circle. It was no use, though. Every time he took one of those damned things down and tried to move past it, another one seemed to take its place, forcing him back.

It was impossible to keep an eye on all of the droids so he put his shield on his back for cover and tried to take the things down as quickly as he could. It seemed slightly unfair that not only did the things outnumber him about thirty-to-one, but they also had bigger weapons.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw one of the things lift up into the air. "Oh, you have got to be joking. They can fly too?"

By the time he had a chance to turn his head for a better look the flying robot was already crashing to the ground, the victorious beast screeching above it.

Was that… creature helping him?

The winged lion-like being flew gracefully between the weapons' fire and grasped another one of the droids, viciously biting out the wiring in its neck. It dumped the thing right on top of one of the other droids firing at Steve.

Apparently it was.

He blinked but didn't let his confusion stop him from fighting the droids. As Captain America he had seen stranger and more disturbing things: like the leader of Hydra taking off his face and revealing the Red Skull beneath it.

So he fired at the droids, took up his shield again and flung it at another few unfortunate electronics. But the soldier also kept an eye on his strange companion. So this was the Griffin whose threat-level he was supposed to assess.

The beast tore of the head of another droid when Steve glanced at it.

Well, he couldn't really call it _harmless_.

Still, taking out the rest of the robot things was a lot easier with the large animal covering his back. The strange part was that it actually _was_ covering his back: taking out the droids trying to sneak up on him or box him in.

Then again, the _robots_ had proven to be capable of tactical thought, so why not the mythical creature as well? At least the Griffin was a living being. For that creature to know what it was doing was far less disturbing than the electronics that were capable of thinking for themselves.

At least, in his opinion.

He shrugged, wincing as it aggravated his shoulder and helped the beast take out the rest of the droids. When all of the technological things had been beaten up enough to have stopped moving entirely, Steve Rogers finally took a good look at the animal that had helped him.

Like the file he had been given told him, and the photographs had already shown him, the creature _was_ a Griffin. It certainly looked like a combination of an eagle and a lion, although it was larger than either. And it had already proven to have a sharp beak and strong talons and claws. Luckily it didn't seem as if it was going to attack him.

And Steve felt somewhat lost on what to do. It was one thing to see the picture of such a creature and to be told that it may just be real, but another to stand beside it in real life.

The beast was truly majestic, stunning, like a piece of art come to life. But the slight tilt of its head and the lazy curling of its tail seemed to tell him that it _hadn't_ suddenly sprung into existence, but that it had always been there for those willing to look.

Look at me, those vibrant green eyes seemed to say, here I am. This world, it is mine. I was here far before you were and will be here long after you are gone. Those eyes were young and lost but old and tired as if it had seen the world change just as he had and had lost something, his home, his world, himself, along the way.

So Steve awkwardly shuffled beneath the clear green gaze, feeling as small and awkward as he had when he was younger, before the serum. Or even afterwards around women.

"Thank you." he finally told the creature. Not just because he felt like it needed to be said, but also because there seemed to be something in the animal's stance that said that it would understand.

The regal nod he received from the Griffin _could_ have been a coincidence, but it could also have been an indication of something else entirely and Steve wasn't entirely sure he wanted to open that particular can of worms. Besides, he had never been good at making conversation and he felt that counted doubly for intelligent mythical creatures (and triple for women). So instead he just stared at the being in silence.

Until, over the soft electric buzzing of the robotic remains and the huffing breath of his current companion, Steve could hear the chopper in the distance.

"Ah, back-up." he couldn't help but comment.

He could also have _imagined_ the Griffin snorting in amusement at that.

* * *

**A.N.**: I'm a bit iffy about the whole fighting stuff, but hey, I tried… Also, not satisfied with my summary, but I might change it later on... My usual secret to summaries is using a not-so-random paragraph from my story. But that doesn't always work with multi-chapter fics, though. .

And no, I have no idea where I'm going with this and that is kind of scary. And yet, oddly fun for writing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

* * *

Harry didn't know why he stuck around.

He should have left when those robots were taken care of. He should have left when he heard the man's back-up arrive (always late it seems, even in the muggle world). He _should_ have just taken off.

But there was something familiar in the man's eyes that reminded Harry of himself and so he had waited, just for a moment, to see what the man would do when the robots were dead – for lack of a better word – and it was just the two of them.

The Muggle man hadn't panicked, hadn't attacked and hadn't tried to examine the mythical creature up close but just accepted his presence. And once again Harry was reminded of _himself_, because after being introduced to the magical world, after a while he just started to accept the possibility of _everything_.

He hadn't been raised as a wizard like Ron nor had he done extensive reading like Hermione, so he didn't really know what was and what was not _normal_ or even _possible_ in the Wizarding World. Instead he just went with it. Talking portraits, flying cars, giant spiders, werewolves, Horcruxes… in the end it was the _what_ that mattered to him and perhaps the _what does that mean_ or _how do I stop it_. It never really mattered to him _how_ things turned out like that, or where something came from.

If something was, then it was. Simple.

It seemed that this man shared the same sort of attitude. And that seemed somewhat strange, for a muggle. So Harry had stuck around, just for a little while, examining this odd blond man. Those clear blue eyes were honest, open and completely at odds with the man's somewhat cautious stance.

And then the guy had thanked him.

The Griffin blinked, looking at the man before him. No pretence or sarcasm or aiming for a future favour, just a _genuine_ thank you. It was odd and surprisingly heartening, because really, how many people had _ever_ been this honest in thanking him for _anything_? Thanking him as a _person_, instead of an icon that was either far more or somehow less than that. The wizard didn't even get that in human form, so it was strange but somewhat touching to have someone acknowledge him like that while he was a Griffin.

Despite being almost stunned stupid by the simple but unexpected gesture, Harry could do nothing else than at least acknowledge the guy's genuine words. He bowed his head in a deep nod, showing his appreciation in the only way he could in this form.

This was the only exchange between them, and yet he felt… comfortable around this man in a way he hadn't for a long time. His first meeting with Ron, and later on with the twins had been like this; an instant kinship, an immediate bond. Trust extended from both sides, with each person meeting each other halfway, both asking no more than what had been given. This sort of bond had become impossible during the war; such a kinship amongst strangers, because no one wanted to invest emotionally in someone who might die or turn against you.

But somehow he felt like that now. And it felt... good; like a weight falling of his shoulders. Because it showed him that he wasn't completely stuck in the war's shadows. That perhaps he could still escape the tentative hold Death still held on his soul. That perhaps he too, could step back out into the sunlight without the cover of darkness on his shoulders like a mantle.

Yes, Harry was pretty sure that he _really_ shouldn't be hanging around with this muggle, should leave right away and ignore it. But he was tired and hurt and hadn't felt comfortable around anyone since the war ended and the Golden trio went their separate ways.

Yes, he knew that it might get him in trouble later on but _anything_ that chased those shadows away for even a moment was too precious to just give up.

So he had stayed, even as the sounds of a helicopter came closer.

Professor Snape had told him that his utter stupidity would get him killed one day. But then, Harry Potter didn't fear Death.

Not anymore.

* * *

The agents from S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't seem to know what to do with the large mythical creature anymore than he did.

It was actually somewhat ironic, since he _had_ been sent by them to face the beast. It was clear that everyone had expected it to be either hostile so that it would have had to be taken down, or had believed it would fly away, to try to avoid humans entirely.

Instead the Griffin just watched the agents' hesitant milling around with what Steve could swear was a hint of amusement, making no move to either attack them or flee.

A few long moments passed like that until the big beast sidled _just a bit_ closer to an unsuspecting agent and suddenly screeched, causing him and, in a chain reaction every other agent, to draw their weapon.

A huffing breath was all the creature had to say to that before he turned his back to the lowly mortals, to face Steve again.

The Captain gestured at the agents and waited until they reluctantly holstered their weapons before meeting the amused emerald gaze of the being in front of him.

"It's not that funny."

The little nudge it gave him with its head in reply begged to disagree.

And caused the agents to draw their weapons _again_.

With a sigh Steve came to one inescapable conclusion.

This was going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

Harry admitted that perhaps he took a bit too much joy in aggravating the poor agents. They just reminded him of a combination of Aurors and Ministry workers: all protocols and disable the threat. When an unexpected situation raises its head they didn't have the foggiest idea what to do.

So yes, the Griffin might have ignored their hesitant orders of 'follow me', snapped at anyone who come to close and made a few sudden movements and sounds to startle them.

At first, his fighting partner, who he now knew was called Captain Rogers, seemed somewhat amused by the situation as well. But Harry could see the tiredness in his stance and the suppressed pain in the tightness around his eyes. Now that the adrenaline had worn of, injuries were making themselves acutely known.

Harry hadn't gotten away completely unscratched either.

This was the first time he had fought in his animagus form, and also the first time he had fought robots and muggle weapons. The weapon fire he had easily managed to dodge on instinct; blasts of light were blasts of light, be they some sort of muggle weapon or wizarding spells; you just knew they would hurt when they hit you. But the robotic things were made of metal that had sharp edges when he tore them apart at the joints. And the electric currents scorched his talons and paws while he had ripped them apart.

Harry's injuries were no more than annoyances, but he had seen the blond get hit by one of those blasts. The muggle was likely in some serious pain.

Annoyed with himself for drawing this out, he stepped away from the group and flapped his wings with every intention of flying away and leaving the agents to see to Captain Rogers instead of him.

An almost anxious voice stopped him in his tracks. "Wait!"

He slowly turned to the blond man. The guy seemed to hesitate for a moment, but he spoke his request firmly. "Could you… come with me?"

Harry blinked. He wasn't sure if he could, but he kind of wanted to. Though he _was_ sure that this would be a very bad idea. Those agents certainly looked military. _Muggle_ military and that was possibly not the best thing to combine with a mythical creature, or a wizard. On the other hand, they hadn't exactly _tried_ anything. And his fighting partner said '_me_', not 'us'.

For once Harry Potter actually hesitated. Usually he was the sort of person who just acted; he jumped into a situation because it felt like it was the right thing to do and then he just went with wherever it took him. But now he wasn't sure what the right thing was.

A large part of him just _wanted_ to go.

Because he had been roaming around alone for too long, because he needed a distraction or some way to move onwards instead of being trapped in the past.

Because he actually liked this guy.

The rules screamed _no_, his mind said that this was an idiotic plan, but they had already seen him in this form anyway, and since when was he the type of person to fully consider all possible consequences of his actions?

Captain Rogers just stood there, blue eyes boring into emerald, patiently waiting for his answer.

In the end, that was what decided it for him.

Once more, Harry took the leap.

* * *

Fury looked at the not-so-mythical creature in annoyance. He had had a _long_ day, trying to clean up the mess of a sudden, unplanned confrontation at an illegal tech-lab. He needed to find the ones responsible for that fucking droid army that nearly took out his men _and_ explain to the Council why the hell he didn't inform them of his supposed raid.

And right now he was staring at an animal.

A large, _dangerous_ animal that took out a fair amount of armed droids, leaving them as nothing more than scrap metal.

"What the hell am I going to do with you?" he asked out loud.

Because by now he had quite a few protocols in place for dealing with 'special' individuals but he had never had to debrief a damn _animal_ before.

Especially not one that wasn't supposed to exist.

Rogers actually seemed to believe the beast had some intelligence and hell, _it was not supposed to even exist_ so who the fuck knew?

Predictably the creature didn't answer him. It just stared at him expectantly, looking for all the world as if this was an everyday situation. If the damn beast just had the courtesy to actually _behave_ like an animal, than at least Fury would know where he stood.

Fuck this. He had a bottle of scotch in his office that was calling him. The Council, Stark and Banner where enough of a headache, he really didn't need to deal with this oversized eagle/lion hybrid as well.

"Rogers seemed to like you well enough. Hell, you can be his problem for tonight. I'll figure the rest of this shit out tomorrow."

He took the creature's huff as a sign of agreement.

* * *

**A.N.**: Thank you **Lekaiel **for the lovely fan-art that I used for my cover. :) I put the link to a larger version of the image on my Profile, in case anyone else wants to see Griffin!Harry in his full glory.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

* * *

It was nearly nine o'clock in the evening and Steve was already ready to call it a day.

That afternoon he had been sent on a mission to 'assess the threat-level' of a mythical creature but instead the agents who were supposed to support him in the air had been attacked by something else entirely. So he had needed to fight a droid army instead.

Then the Griffin had actually joined in and _helped_ him.

After which he had to mediate between the far-to-intelligent animal and the high-strung agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. He had somehow managed to convince the Griffin to follow their helicopter to the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility where he had left it in the care of a few agents when he was told to see to his injuries.

When Steve had finally been released from the infirmary an agent was waiting to lead him to a large, furnished containment room where the Griffin was calmly eating. He wasn't exactly sure who the room had been supposed to contain, but judging by the bed, desk, couch, television and toilet, it wasn't a mythical animal. The only thing that looked as out of place as the large beast were the tub of water and the other two containers with apples and red meat. He wondered if they had actually managed to research the eating habits of a mythical creature or if they had just made an educated guess. He supposed it didn't matter.

"Good evening." Steve greeted the creature politely and wasn't overly surprised when he received a nod in return.

With a tired sigh he sank down on the couch, rubbing his eyes and wondering how he always got stuck with the strangest of missions. When he opened his eyes again, the creature had abandoned his food and was curiously looking at him.

"What a day, huh?"

A shrug was his only answer.

Maybe it was just him, then.

The soft growl of his stomach reminded Steve that he had missed dinner, but the thought of getting up and finding the cafeteria in this facility so that he could be stared at by even more S.H.I.E.L.D. agents wasn't very attractive.

The temporally misplaced soldier started when an object dumped in his lap broke him from his thoughts.

An apple.

For a moment he could do no more than stare at it dumbly. Then his brain kicked back into gear and his manners with it. "Thank you." he told the large winged animal who was standing not to far from him with an apple of its own.

The Griffin made a soft chirping sound and gently bit into the fruit in his talons.

A surprisingly comfortable couch, an apple and the company of a helpful mythical being was, in his mind, far better than the plastic chairs - too small for his frame - and cold atmosphere of the S.H.I.E.L.D. cafeteria room full of awed, sceptical or unreadable agents.

So, with a small shrug, Steve followed its example, relaxing into the soft couch and oddly warm presence of a being as out of place as he was and who might be the only one on this base with no real expectations of him.

* * *

Harry had been vaguely amused by the no-nonsense attitude of the muggle in charge of this place and, with the promise of becoming Captain Rogers' 'problem', had allowed one of the man's agents to lead him to a room. A powerful tap with one of his talons to the glass showed the strength of his rather luxurious prison.

The wizard wasn't worried. He had his ways to get out of here, even if most of those would reveal the fact that he could use magic.

The animagus spent a few moments exploring his temporary quarters and wondered what the muggles would do if he decided to turn on the telly and plop down on the couch in an impersonation of Dudley.

The presence of a magical creature seemed to have thrown them for a loop, but they didn't really panic. None of the agents or the man in charge took to his presence as easily as the blond-haired Captain, but they didn't do anything completely barmy either. Instead they calmly led him to some sort of high-end prison room to give them the time to figure out where to go from here.

It was a rather practical attitude. Wizards weren't usually that adaptable.

With a small shrug, Harry calmly walked over to a bucket with apples, obviously placed there for him. The raw meat in the container next to it didn't really appeal to him, though he had eaten worse in his Griffin form. The instincts of his animal side were very present, sometimes, so when he was hungry and there were no alternatives easily available he hunted for food. Now, though, there was a whole bucket of apples that, though not looking very appetizing to his animal side, really appealed to the human part of Harry.

He amused himself with his dinner until the door to the room opened again. Years of being the number one target of Voldemort made the Gryffindor rather adapt at recognizing threatening presences. He felt no such thing now and was unsurprised to see the blond Captain who had fought beside him.

The muggle's polite greeting made him want to smile, but that was rather difficult to do in his Griffin form. Instead he nodded and watched as the man tiredly made his way towards the couch.

""What a day, huh?" Captain Roger's voice was as soft as a sigh and Harry felt a rush of sympathy. For the wizard today was rather odd as well, but Harry was used to strange and dangerous situations. He shrugged, green eyes firmly on the blond. Out of everything that happened, the droids and strangely efficient muggle military were not really enough to make him blink.

No, it was the man in front of him that gave him pause. The strangely accepting muggle had the heart of a Gryffindor and eyes with a hint of the same despair that haunted Harry's steps since the war.

The blond had stood firm in front of a droid army, had accepted a Griffin as a fighting partner and treated him with a respect that felt far more genuine than Harry was used to receiving. But now the colourful armour that had shielded a tired soul from the world was gone, leaving behind a far more vulnerable looking human.

And Harry could understand that dichotomy better than any other. Strong in battle, and in private just tired of everything. So when Captain Rogers ignored his softly growling stomach, Harry carefully took one of the apples and brought it to him.

Taking another apple for himself, he stepped closer to the man, chirping softly when the blond thanked him.

The two ate in silence, unlikely partners sharing a meal.

It was a peaceful moment, but when Harry was done he could feel the eyes on him and raised his head to look at his companion. Although the man's posture was tired, those blue eyes were bright and held far more than just the lost feeling Harry recognized from himself.

No, contrary to him those windows showed a soul filled with _life_ and it was breathtaking. Those eyes seemed to chip away at the hold Death had on Harry's soul and the longer he stared the more he felt his belief in life restore.

Drawn in, his paws moved him closer to the muggle, until he was standing right beside the couch. When the Captain didn't move, Harry slowly lowered himself to sit on the floor.

Eye contact was broken, but the feeling of understanding and trust that emitted from being in the presence of a soul so similar and yet so different still encased the wizard like a warm glow.

* * *

When Steve finished eating he took a long look at the creature. His eyes took note of a few scratches and marks that he knew must have come from the fight earlier, causing a frown to form on his face.

Steve couldn't quite figure it out; the Griffin was too smart for an animal and far too tame. It had helped him in battle, had teased the agents and seemed to be far too accepting of everything that had happened.

Because what sort of creature jumps in to help a stranger fights off a droid army? Most animals would have fled at the noise and a more aggressive animal would have attacked everyone, including him. No animal-like being would follow a helicopter to a military base and let the agents lead him inside just because Steve asked it to.

It didn't make any sense.

The Griffin looked up, greeting his gaze with its bright emerald eyes. For a long moment the two just stared at each other before the creature carefully walked over until it was towering over him right next to were Steve was sitting. The Captain's eyes didn't leave the animal when it calmly lowered itself on the floor right in front of him and chirped softly.

Eventually Steve just sighed and let these thoughts quietly drift away. In that green gaze he could see more mysteries buried just beneath the surface, but he could also see a warmth there. And, as the mythical creature that had fought like a vicious warrior only hours before, gently bend its royal head, leaning it carefully on his leg he decided that these things really didn't matter.

Because there were many things he didn't understand nowadays.

Such as droid armies, electronic devices and the internet. Human behaviour had remained mostly the same and yet still seemed to puzzle him. Somehow he always said the wrong thing, somehow he still sounded old-fashioned despite trying to adapt. Half the things he heard people say made no sense to him, references eluded him and behaviour that made him cringe seemed to be the norm.

So it really didn't matter that he couldn't understand how an animal-like creature could act so human.

Very carefully, Steve ran his hand over one of the scratches on the Griffin's side. The being let out a soft huff, but made no other reaction and for a moment Steve felt strangely humbled because he understood the trust that it implied.

He was lost in this time and nearly everything seemed strange to him. Everything but the mythical creature before him that should have been the most baffling of all.

But if there was one thing Steve Rogers _did_ understand it was what it meant to brothers in arms. The trust that it could built between two individuals.

And, at the end of the day, that was really all that mattered.

* * *

'I should really sneak out of here' Harry told himself as he glanced at the dozing blond on the couch.

He wasn't quite sure how the muggles here would deal with him, come morning. So far things had turned out alright. But Harry knew better than anyone that people could be very unpleasant when faced with something so much different than themselves. The Dursley's were the prime example of that.

When all of these rational thoughts failed to plant even the slightest hint of urgency in his mind, Harry gave up on convincing himself to leave.

At least he tried, the Griffin nodded to himself with a small shrug.

Almost automatically, his half-asleep companion responded to the movement. The large hand that had been resting on his shoulders started a gentle petting motion. It was odd and slightly humiliating. Yet for the life of him, Harry couldn't remember having felt anything more soothing in a very long time. Unbidden a soft rumble started in his throat and he drifted off to sleep to the gentle hand softly petting him and a kind, calm voice murmuring in his ears.

That night, he was untroubled by nightmares. Instead Harry dreamed of flying through the open sky to a place he could call home. The friendly warmth of the sun cleansing the lingering shadows from his soul.

* * *

**A.N.:** Four chapters instead of three, but it still felt like a strange ending… It was nice to work on a longer story, but after the initial writing burst, inspiration just seeped away. The first three chapters went fine, but it was a fight to write this chapter...

Still, I wanted to finish this before starting anything else, so I hope it's still an acceptable ending. Maybe I'll do a one-shot sequel one day… one of the reviewers left me with an image of Steve flying on Griffin!Harry's back into battle and making Thor or Tony jealous that might be to good to pass up.

Thanks to everyone for reviewing! It was interesting to write something longer, but I think I will sulk back to one-shot land…


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